Thorns in my throat
by At the mercy of irony
Summary: Rated for disturbing images. Oneshot, Garetyou will find out soon enough! Muah, it feels good to scar your minds.


Sheba: Shouldn't you be doing your other fics instead of disgusting romance oneshots?  
  
Dessie: Meh, you're probably right.  
  
Sheba: So why aren't you?  
  
Dessie: I have nothing better to do.  
  
Sheba: You're pathetic.  
  
For VanillaCat, who's humour fic has put some disturbing images into my mind.  
  
*_*_*_*_*_*  
  
Well, that is that. The entire population saved. Millions and millions of lives saved. Some may die later. But that isn't my problem. For now, the world is saved. We travelled the world, lit the four elemental lighthouses, fought Mars knows how many rats with swords and were forced to wield weapons with which, if the "On" switch was left on overnight, could produce meteors the size of the Mt. Aleph boulder to come crashing down on our campsite, setting it on fire.  
  
And what did we get in return?  
  
Dinner at Isaac's house.  
  
So now, I am sitting in my bedroom, on top of my unmade bed, sulking, thinking about what I would rather receive as an award for helping to save the world than an all expenses paid trip to Isaac's house. I mean, isn't there at LEAST a medal?  
  
As I get up to go to the bathroom to apply some more hair gel to my oversized red hair, something clicks in my mind. Something that forces me to brush my teeth and put on a suit with a bow tie that makes me look like a penguin with a walking stick. Something that forces me to stop feeling sorry for myself, get up and moving out the door with a bunch of roses freshly picked from my mum's garden in my mouth. Something that forces me to practically float over to Isaac's house with a smile stretched across my face. And before I could think of anything else to the phrase "Something that forces me" I was standing at his doorstep.  
  
Well, it's not a very long walk to Isaac's house.  
  
I knock on the door. No answer. I knock on the door. Still no reply. I knock on the door one last time. No answer. I am starting to lose my patience, and the rose thorns are beginning to fall off the rose and starting to fall inside my mouth. My grin starts to fade into a smile, then a smile into a neutral position, then a neutral position into a frown. I start to tap on the door to a tune I know. It's a very nice tune. A tune she might like. It's an old tune, and outdated tune. But it's a tune she might like. Suddenly someone opens the door and light spills out into the night sky. Oh. It's only Isaac.  
  
"Garet?" he says, his tone sleepy. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"You invited me to dinner!"  
  
"Yes, we did..."  
  
"That's why I'm here, of course."  
  
"We asked you to come on Tuesday."  
  
"I know!"  
  
"Today's Monday."  
  
"Oh." I started to blush as brightly as my hair. "Well then, I better go."  
  
"Bye!" said Isaac, slowly shutting the door. Light was absent yet again. I removed the rose from my mouth and trampled it into the ground. Then I burned it. They had rejected me. She had rejected me. I felt like singing a song. But I didn't know what song to sing. Slowly I walked home, humming the tune that I had been knocking on the  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
  
The next day passed very quickly, but I could not pass the time quickly enough. I picked up a new rose at 11 in the morning. It had wilted by noon. I put on my penguin suit on at noon. It was dirty by 1. I had to decide once more what I was going to wear. Finally I decided on a light auburn coloured t-shirt that almost matched my hair, and some long green trousers. I tried to comb my hair but it only sprung back into its normal position. I didn't think she would like it. I thought I had some hair gel removal spray in the cupboard. But I didn't. I had imported the stuff from Kalay. It would take at least two weeks before he could get his hands on it again. So I just hoped that she wouldn't mind. I just hoped that she loved me anyway.  
  
Eventually 7 in the evening came. I was standing at their doorstep 5 minutes before then. I was so excited. Now that our journey had ended, we could be together. Forever. A new rose was embedded in my tongue. I hoped she would appreciate it. The thorns were starting to cut up my throat. But it was for her.  
  
Suddenly Isaac opened the door again.  
  
"Hello Garet. Come in." he said, in a strangely robotic tone. I nodded to him and followed him into the kitchen. She was standing near the oven, wearing oven mitts and an orange dress that cascaded to the floor.  
  
"Good evening, Garet. You look good tonight." She remarked. I practically flew into my seat at the table and managed to find the guts to say something to her.  
  
"You look great yourself, Miss."  
  
She giggled. "Oh please, call me Dora."  
  
I also giggled. Isaac gave me a strange look. But I didn't care. She didn't give me a strange look. "So, when is Dad coming home?" asked Isaac as he watched Dora put four steaming bowls of pasta around the table which was decorated with doilies. Dora seemed to whisper the response. Isaac asked again, and Dora gave a general reply. Soon, she said. I didn't know that she had tied up Isaac's father in the basement at the time.  
  
As the last thorn lodged in my throat, I remembered the red petals in my mouth. "This is for you, Dora." I said. She laughed. Was she laughing at me? "Why thankyou Garet!" she replied, then got out of her seat to put it in a glass of water. But was she laughing at me? Was it my clothes? My smile? Was my fly undone? Trying to forget the laughter, I took a sip from the drink she had provided for me. I was certainly nervous. And I wasn't nervous. I think I was sweating. But what was I sweating for? I was at dinner at Isaac's house. It wasn't anything that hadn't happened before.  
  
She started the conversation. I think she was talking to us about how much she would have paid to have gone around the world. Isaac was busy making smart comments. I spent most of the time staring into her eyes. She must have noticed this. And then when Isaac started talking, she began to stare into my eyes.  
  
I stared at her.  
  
She stared at me.  
  
I stared at her.  
  
She stared at me.  
  
Staring is a very repetitive process, let me tell you.  
  
We both started to talk at the same time.  
  
Isaac got the gist of what was going on and fled to the bathroom, most likely to throw up.  
  
Simpleton, I thought. He does not know the meaning of true love.  
  
"I've missed you."  
  
"I've missed you too."  
  
"I've waited too long for you."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Silence.  
  
'I've always liked your hair." She remarked, trying to get my hair to curl around her finger, thought it just flung back into her face when she tried to do so. She had brought her chair closer to mine. I cursed myself under my breath for trying to change my hair. She liked it. She liked me. I didn't know what to say now.  
  
"Umm..." That was what I said. That was what I said in its entirety.  
  
Silence.  
  
"I like your hair too." I said after some time. There was very little distance between our chairs now.  
  
Silence.  
  
Then our lips drew together.  
  
And afterwards, even though I had thorns in my throat, I couldn't help but smile.  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
  
Sheba: That was completely and utterly disgusting.  
  
Dessie: Yes, well. I tried.  
  
Sheba: As I said, that was completely and utterly disgusting.  
  
Dessie: Hmm... well, review! Was it too mushy or not mushy enough? Interesting or boring? Good or...  
  
Sheba: Completely and utterly disgusting.  
  
Dessie: OK OK OK! 


End file.
